Billy's touch was nice, and Tim closed his eyes against it briefly. He was too tired and too sore and too drunk to bothering trying to keep this arms-length. He was past that point by now. Maybe he'd care more in the morning. Maybe he wouldn't. He opened his eyes again, peering up at Billy skeptically. "Depends on what you're tryin' to feed me." He knew he oughtta eat, but nothing in particular really sounded good, and it was possible that he was too exhausted to eat anyway.